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suicide poem

limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
duas fileiras dos repolhos
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
escute
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
sob a folha dusky do laurel
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
do sol nem das estrelas
eu sei não onde
em sua barraca guardada
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars

 



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